


The Parent Teacher Conference

by Q_Drew



Category: Harry Potter - J. K. Rowling
Genre: Explicit Sexual Content, F/M, Inspired by Fanart, One Shot, Plot What Plot/Porn Without Plot, Smut
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-11-19
Updated: 2020-11-19
Packaged: 2021-03-09 22:09:12
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 3,970
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/27633218
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Q_Drew/pseuds/Q_Drew
Summary: It's been a long few weeks in the Ministry’s Office of House-Elf Relocation.  When Hermione receives Rose's progress report it tips her over the edge.  Professor Severus Snape should have seen it coming.
Relationships: Hermione Granger/Severus Snape
Comments: 86
Kudos: 421
Collections: Best of SSHG, Hearts and Cauldrons Discord Members





	The Parent Teacher Conference

**Author's Note:**

  * For [Chancc](https://archiveofourown.org/users/Chancc/gifts).
  * Inspired by [NSFW: On the Desk](https://archiveofourown.org/external_works/715337) by Chancc. 



> Hey, it's been a long damn time. Miss you all. I have been working on things bit by bit in the background and have finally been convinced to post this.
> 
> Rated E for obvious reasons.
> 
> My inordinate thanks to the best alpha, [Morbidmuch](https://archiveofourown.org/users/Morbidmuch/pseuds/Morbidmuch), and betas in the world: [Ms_Anthrop](https://archiveofourown.org/users/Ms_Anthrop/pseuds/Ms_Anthrop), and [FawkesyLady](https://archiveofourown.org/users/Tarma/pseuds/FawkesyLady).
> 
> Chancc's work weaseled itself into my brain and refused to let me go until I wrote the story to go with it. I blame her for everything below. She happily takes credit. Don't look at her work unless you're ALONE because I don't take responsibility for your social snafu. PS. You don't have to pay to view it, but that'd be a nice surprise for her (she did, after all, draw the bits).

_That git!_

Hermione, fresh off an emergency floo from the Ministry’s Office of House-Elf Relocation, was seething with rage as she descended the staircase to the dungeons. Her whole body thrummed with furious motherly instincts; one of her darling cubs was being cruelly mistreated, and it wouldn’t stand!

_This couldn’t have gotten this bad without Rose telling me. There has to be a mistake!_

The cold air licked at her bare legs under her sensible skirt, causing goosebumps to erupt over her skin. She suppressed the oncoming shiver, determined to not shake like a leaf in front of the Potions Master; fear was the last emotion that she felt. Had he expected her to accept the news like a passive flobberworm? It was as if he didn’t know her at all! Hermione’s heels clicked loudly on the flagstones, punctuating her ire with precision. He would hear her coming and know her rage. Good. 

The offending missive, delivered in the owl post just fifteen minutes ago, crinkled in Hermione’s fist as she marched further down the corridor. _He did just pass sixty… maybe he’s gone barmy; there is no other explanation for this!_

Upon her arrival at the familiar oak door she didn’t even bother to knock. What was the bloody point? She had no desire to be polite, her anger gleefully clouding her otherwise good manners; quite frankly, if Snape hadn’t half-expected her materialization tonight there would be more than just Rose for them to discuss. With shocking force Hermione pushed open the door, and it rebounded off the wall. The corresponding crash reverberated in the dim, dank space of the Potions Classroom.

Her hard eyes narrowed, adjusting to the darkness within. The source of her ire, sitting calmly behind his desk in his dark frock coat, came into sharp focus after several seconds. Damn him, for he was looking completely unruffled.

Severus Snape’s face was half hidden behind pale, steepled fingers. “Ah,” he said with the air of someone who is never surprised, “Madam Weasley, to what do I owe the... pleasure of your visit?”

Hermione’s left eye twitched at the use of her old name. No one used that particular honorific anymore unless they were referencing archived files or… realization dawned. Snape was purposefully trying to throw her off balance, to distract her. A surge of power rushed through her; _he had expected me after all_.

Blatantly disregarding the bait she asked, “What is the meaning of this?”

Snape shifted slightly; a chink in his stoic armor. “Given the unorthodox nature of your entry, isn’t that what I should be asking you?”

“You know exactly why I’ve come down here!”

Hermione strode more fully into his classroom, her steps ringing and purposeful. As she crossed mid-way to his desk, Snape flicked his hand and the door behind her shut with a barely audible click. 

“Is it to be an interrogation, then?”

“You tell me,” she said as she threw the crumpled piece of paper down on his desk. To Hermione’s mortification her hands were shaking with adrenaline as she smoothed out the wrinkles. “I demand to see the records of Rose’s grades that resulted in this,” she stabbed the progress report with her forefinger, “this score of Troll.” She straightened, her spine stiff, and crossed her arms over her chest to hide the trembling in her hands.

Snape’s glittering eyes flicked up from where she tucked away her hands to meet her gaze. “I think the answer is quite simple,” his soft voice was like heavy velvet, and she couldn’t help but lean slightly towards him, “your daughter is absolutely rubbish at Potions.”

Hermione blinked, stunned at the blunt explanation. “Excuse me?”

Snape leaned back in his leather wingback chair. “I can imagine that it is quite a shock, what with your contribution to her genetic makeup. However, she is also unfortunately a progeny of Ronald Weasley, and it presents quite a hindrance to overcome despite your influence.”

She rolled her eyes. _He’s deflecting. Rose can’t be that bad at brewing!_ “Show me your gradebook.”

With a hypnotic grace Snape rose, splaying his hands on his desk on either side of Rose’s grade sheet. All of Rose’s other subjects were marked above an Acceptable. And that singular A was earned in Divination, so hardly a surprise. However the Troll, written in Snape’s spidery script, was a true outlier. No one had ever mentioned Rose having trouble with Potions before today. She had even scored Exceeds Expectations for the past four years. Ergo, a mistake was made somewhere; Hermione was sure of it. 

“What are you implying?” Hermione suppressed a shiver at the dark, dangerous slant to his voice as she ran her eyes over the sheet’s tidy columns once more. 

“That perhaps you’re too harsh on Rose this year? Or you’ve mixed her up with a Roonil Wazlib or something? There is absolutely not a way in hell that my daughter earned a T.”

“Do you doubt my record keeping, Miss Granger?”

Even though Hermione bristled, there was an immature part of her that was satisfied Snape had reverted back to her maiden name. Especially the ‘Miss’. He really was trying to divert her mission. _Oh, I’ve really hit a nerve, have I?_ “I know you’re a competent teacher, but Rose is immensely talented--”

“Perhaps in Charms or Transfiguration.” Snape emphasized the rest slowly, as if she simply misunderstood him the first time, “But. Not. Potions.”

She mimicked his stance, her hands on the outside of his, fingers almost touching. Due to the proximity, his familiar scent--cloves and spice--filled her lungs and sent her heart racing. “Show. Me. The. Grade. Book.”

Snape leaned closer, inky hair falling over his shoulders, his eyes flashing. “I do not answer to you.”

 _Oh, yes you do!_ Hermione’s accusatory finger flew directly beneath Snape’s formidable nose. “You’re being a right arse!”

He snatched her wrist, his long warm fingers curling around it, sending a tingle down the length of her traitorous body. _Not now! Focus!_ “And you are being a daft, overprotective moo who cannot accept her child is not perfect!”

Her chest rose as she breathed in harshly, and Snape’s eyes momentarily flicked down to her white buttoned blouse. “Are you calling me a cow?” 

“And risk bodily injury if I did? I think not. I do wonder, though, a howler would have been sufficient enough for you to vent your spleen. Is Rose the only reason you came down here?”

 _Fuck._ She really didn’t have a proper answer for that. When Hermione had received the progress report she saw red, and combined with an already simmering frustration, allowed her rage to get the better of her. Now that she was here, their closeness was beginning to flood her senses with only a hunger for him, desire quickly replacing ire. Flustered by her body’s reaction to the man, she threw out the best insult she could come up with on the spot. 

“Wanker!”

“Harridan!”

“Prat!”

“Perpetual know-it-all!” 

Hermione watched his mouth form the words, however she barely heard them. Their eyes met, the heat behind his gaze threatening to envelope her; Snape’s look, so untamed and wicked, sent a jolt straight to the apex of her thighs. _Damn him, does he even care what he does to me?_ Unconsciously, she wet her lower lip.

Abruptly they came together in a clash of teeth and hot mouths. Snape’s tongue slipped past her lips, and she groaned. He let go of her wrist in favor of cradling her head, tilting her to his preferred angle. The desk’s edge pressed into Hermione’s lower belly as her hands tugged urgently on his frock coat’s buttons. She accentuated pulling one off, thread and all, by biting his bottom lip. He gasped. That action seemed to break the spell. With obvious reluctance, Snape broke away from her, eyes dazed and cheeks flushed. 

“We need to finish this conversation.”

Higher intelligence attempted to make an erratic return. Snape was right; they should finish talking this over. Rose’s education--her future--was very important. That would be the logical, prudent choice, not shagging the Potions Master in his lair like a rabid niffler. However, Hermione’s body was thrumming with need, drowning out her good sense. How long had it been? Three weeks? Maybe more? Their schedules always became unbearably busy this time of year. She needed this like she needed oxygen.

Hermione pushed aside his desktop clutter, an inkwell splattering spectacularly on its way to the ground. A pile of papers fluttered downward directly after, including Rose’s progress report.

“What are you doing?” Snape murmured as he watched her clear the desk’s top with methodical purpose.

She propelled herself up onto his desk. Finding her balance on her knees, Hermione was gratified to see that their heights nearly matched. She toed off her heels, and they fell with a clunk.

“Shutting you up, Master Snape.”

Hermione gripped his shoulders and pressed herself flush against him. The flat buttons on his frock coat ground against her breasts and she moaned. When Severus did finally retire from teaching she hoped he’d keep this piece of clothing; there was something about those buttons that drove her mad. Capturing his mouth with hers, her hands slid to grip the hair at his nape. He deepened the kiss as his hands circled her waist. _Oh, yes..._

“While I am not complaining,” Snape said as she pressed her lips against the stubble on his jawline, “is this really the appropriate place for this?”

“I’m not taking criticism at this time.”

He snorted. “Since when have you ever accepted criticism?”

Hermione’s fingers began to unbutton his outer layer. “Stop talking,” she murmured against his mouth. 

Hermione felt him smirk under her lips before she kissed it away as she began to work on freeing him from his clothing. A third of the way down his frock coat she grew impatient and dragged her hand down his front, her magic unbuttoning the rest and the dress shirt underneath. _Finally!_ Hermione’s greedy hands spread over his pale chest, eliciting a hiss from him. 

Snape hurried to catch up. He pulled her blouse out from the waistband of her skirt, his fingers grazing the soft skin that lay underneath. Hermione shivered at his touch. Gods, it had been too long if she was already melting this early in the foreplay. His deft fingers began to unfasten her shirt, his lips following the path of his hands. Snape popped the front clasp of her bra with expertise. Her skin burned in anticipation and she could feel a slick wet heat pooling in her knickers. Hermione’s head dropped back when his mouth descended on a bare breast. When he turned to give attention to the other, nibbling the swell of flesh, Hermione was dimly aware her grip on his hair may have been too tight, and she didn’t care. _I need more, more!_

Snape began to kiss his way back up to her neck, leaving behind embers on her skin. At the same time, one of her hands traveled down to the placket of his dark wool trousers. _Fuuuuck, come on!_ It was either the angle, the distraction of what he was doing to her ear lobe, or the damn trousers but Hermione was having a hell of a time freeing him. _His cock is right there!_ Frustrated, she growled into the crook of his neck. 

One of his hands began moving up her skirt. “Impatient, are we?”

“It has been awhile, Severus.”

His eyes flashed with something--regret?--that she couldn’t completely decipher. “Then sit properly like a good girl and let me take care of that.”

 _Yes, yes, yes…_ Eagerly _,_ Hermione swung her legs around to sit on the edge of the desk, and Snape stepped into the space between her knees. She began to work on his trousers again only to have her hand swatted away. Before she could protest, long fingers ghosted against her inner thigh. The touch was electric, searing her skin, and Hermione began to feel undone.

“Yes?” Snape asked, his fingers inching closer to her core.

“Merlin, yes!”

“Hmm. Not Merlin, I’m afraid.”

“Severus, I swear to--” Hermione yelped as he brushed against her wet knickers.

“Fuck,” Snape said unsteadily as he brushed her again with his knuckles. “You’re so wet already.”

He was right; they had hardly done anything and she was already so sensitive and needy. To her surprise she was quickly approaching the edge of an orgasm. That simple touch through her knickers was enough for her starving pussy. _No, no, no! It’s too soon; I wanted to enjoy this!_ Hermione bit her bottom lip, desperately willing her body to slow down. 

Then Snape pressed on her clit through the silk fabric, and she was gone. There was nothing she could do to stop her reaction. Hermione shuddered as heat immediately dispersed through her lower half, and curled up her chest. Everything was tingly, everything was white. It felt so good, and after the period of unintended abstinence well overdue. Her hair frizzed as her magic dispersed with a static charge.

When Hermione came to, she realized she had leant back onto her elbows sometime during her pleasure. Severus was watching her with hooded eyes, his fingers tracing small circles on her thigh as he waited for her return. _Oh, gods, I’ve completely ignored him!_

“Severus, I’m so--”

Her apology was cut off by Snape’s growl, “So responsive to me.” The fire in his eyes brokered no further argument on the subject. He flipped her skirt up, exposing her quivering quim to the cool air of the dungeons. Snape tilted his head and raised an eyebrow. 

Severus slipped a long finger under the elastic along her hip. “Were these for me, witch?”

Distracted by his devious finger it took Hermione a moment to realize what he was asking about. Her knickers. Her special green silk knickers. She twitched under his soft touch. “A happy coincidence.”

Snape hummed low, and Hermione swore she could feel the vibration on his desk. “Let’s leave them on then.”

 _Merlin_.

Severus must have finished releasing himself while she was otherwise indisposed, for he moved aside her knickers and ran the head of his cock along her seam, making himself slick with her juices. _Ohhhhhhh_. Hermione’s eyes rolled as she moaned deeply and dropped her head back. Her sensitive flesh begged for more; to feel his length within her, to satisfy her as only he could.

To her disappointment Severus immediately stopped moving. _Whaaa?_ Hermione snapped her head up to look at him.

“Is it too much?” Snape asked, concern clouding his features, obviously misreading her reaction.

“Definitely not,” she reassured. “I need you, Severus. _Please_.”

Snape braced himself with one hand on his desk, his half-clothed body leaning over hers slightly. He guided his cock into her warmth with his free hand. Severus’ entrance was slow and gentle, allowing her time to adjust to his size. Hermione didn’t want gentle, though. She wanted to be fucked. Hermione squeezed her muscles and Snape groaned.

“If you keep doing that I won’t last long.”

She chuckled and wrapped her legs around his waist, tilting her pelvis. “I’m really not one to talk. Obviously.”

Severus began thrusting, slow and measured, his grip tight on her hips. “Do you know what it does to me to know that one touch from me can make you come undone? It almost makes me want to prolong the next time just so I can see it again. But--that--isn’t--what--you--want--is--it?” He punctuated the last phrase with thrusts up to the hilt on every word, her breasts jiggling.

Hermione’s reply came out more like a whine than she had intended, “Noooo.”

“What do you want? Do you want to be fucked into the desk?” He hooked one of her knees with his elbow, pushing into her deeper.

“Gods,” Hermione moaned. “Don’t stop.”

“How can I?” Severus grunted. “You’re strangling my cock. You’re so tight.”

His free hand cupped her face, his thumb brushing against her lips. She tipped her head and sucked the digit into her mouth. Severus shuddered, his jaw dropping slack as he watched Hermione swirl her tongue around his finger. His eyes were as dark as she had ever seen them. 

“Tell me, Miss Granger,” Severus purred wickedly, his thumb tugging down her bottom lip, “is this what you were imagining in my classroom all those years ago?”

In normal circumstances she’d have been offended at the insinuation; Severus wasn’t the type of teacher to take advantage of his authority, and she hadn’t been the type of student to become distracted from her studies. However, the suggestive question paired with him pounding into her at a fevered pace, fucking her into oblivion on his cherry wood desk, only made lust pool again in her belly. The friction of her knickers rubbing against her sex, Severus’ girth stretching her, it all accumulated into an erotic sensory experience that was driving her to the edge once more.

“No,” Hermione’s breath hitched. “I was more concerned with scoring an ‘O’.”

Severus’ hand moved down her neck, applying gentle pressure. His thumb circled her collar bone before dipping lower to her breast where he flicked her pebbled nipple. The sweet pressure in Hermione’s core increased, she really was getting quite close.

His voice was gravely, thick and dark, a sign that he was beginning to lose control, “I believe you can score another. Show me. Show me what an ‘O’ looks like, Hermione.”

“Oh, fuck,” she moaned low.

She locked eyes with him, and his pace increased, sweat glistening on his chest. His heated gaze, so black it was almost reflective, added fuel to the interior fire. Hermione had tried to maintain eye contact, however when Severus began to circle her clit with a practiced finger she couldn’t. Her head once again fell back, her mouth relaxing in pleasure into the perfect shape.

“Yes, that’s it,” Severus said, his movements becoming erratic. “Exquisite.”

Another swirl around her clit and Hermione was off, moaning his name, riding a tidal wave of pleasure. Her legs spasmed, and if Severus hadn’t already been supporting one of them, she may have very well trembled right off the desk. The blood rushing in her ears was so loud that if Severus had said anything else as he came, twitching inside her as he released his seed, she couldn’t hear it. When Hermione finally opened her eyes, there were stars dancing in her periphery.

Above her Severus was panting, absolutely spent. He slowly lowered the leg he had been holding in his elbow to the desk’s top, squeezing her thigh gently as he did so. Hermione was thankful for the gesture, as her muscles were so achy she probably couldn’t have moved her bottom half without assistance. She was deliciously sore. 

Seeing that she was more or less on the desk without the fear of falling off, Severus collapsed backward into his chair, not even bothering to tuck himself away. Hermione understood his exhaustion as she was barely able to come back up on her elbows as it was. Looking down the length of her body, she drank his satiated state in. Severus’ black hair was stuck across his forehead, his eyes closed in bliss as he breathed heavily, and his arms flung over the armrests. Hermione couldn’t remember the last time she had seen him this relaxed. 

_We both needed this._

After several minutes the desk was becoming too uncomfortable to stay as she was. The wetness in her knickers was becoming sticky and cool. She could stand the feeling if they would be heading home shortly. _I really don’t want to vanish away these knickers, they’re a favorite._ With considerable effort she sat up, her legs protesting the movement. 

“I have…” Severus muttered from his chair. “I have… muscle tonic.”

“If it’s all the same to you,” Hermione said as she slowly slid off the desk until her feet touched the floor. “I rather want to remember this for a while yet.” _Besides, maybe we can massage each other’s muscles in the bath later._

She swayed on her feet, her equilibrium and aching legs begging her to become prone again. A bubble bath had definitely moved up the list of priorities for the evening. 

“I’m sorry,” Severus said, some strength returning to his voice. He continued before Hermione could protest that this type of pain was some women’s aspirations, “I’m sorry it had been so long, Hermione. I never intended to leave you wanting like this. I have been swamped with work, submitting grades, and the--”

“Shh.” Hermione tried to step closer and quickly discovered her legs didn’t want to do that quite yet. “It goes two ways, Severus… the house-elf breeding season always has me staying late to register the new Elfings. You were just as neglected and for that I also apologize.”

She turned around then, and used his desk as leverage to hobble to the other side where she had left her shoes. Hermione looked at her black pumps with trepidation. The three inch heels may as well have been six given how much confidence she currently had in her legs. Her gaze swept across the mess she had made when clearing Severus’ desk and landed on a familiar sheet of grid paper.

_Oh, right. The reason why I had come down here to begin with. Merlin, I hope I don’t ruin the mood entirely; I really was looking forward to that bath._

“About Rose…” she said as she looked across the desk. Severus had stood while she had maneuvered herself to this side, and had already begun to refasten his clothing. 

He pulled open the top left drawer and placed a slim green ledger on the desk. “Here’s my gradebook. You can look it over tonight, but I haven’t made a mistake. She really has become rubbish at Potions.”

Hermione didn’t have to look inside the book for confirmation; she knew he was telling the truth. Severus had never lied to her.

“I don’t understand,” Hermione said as she clumsily buttoned her blouse after latching her bra. “The previous years have been fine. What’s so different now?” About two-thirds of the way down she gave up and stuffed the shirt into her skirt’s waistband.

“This may come as a surprise to you, but academic expectations increase in a student’s O.W.L. year.”

“I don’t remember it being particularly more difficult.”

Severus snorted. “Of course you don’t. You were always too bloody intelligent for your own good.” He flicked his hand and most of his desk’s things tidied themselves in their appropriate places.

Hermione huffed. With a wave of her hand the rest of his materials followed. “You didn’t say anything… I could have--”

“She asked me not to.”

Slipping carefully into her heels, she couldn’t keep the sadness out of her voice, “Why didn’t she tell me? I’m her mother.”

Severus had come to her side and slipped a comforting hand around her upper arm, helping her steady herself on her feet. “She didn’t want to disappoint you.”

“Disappoint me?” Hermione asked disbelieving with a frown. “She’s my daughter, that’s impossible.”

Severus smiled softly at her, affection in his eyes. His long fingers tucked an errant curl behind her ear. “Would you like to make a detour to Gryffindor Tower before we go home?”

_Oh, I am so fortunate to have you, Severus._ Hermione felt her eyes well with sentiment. She really loved this man, he truly understood how to please her in every single capacity. “Yes, I would like that very much.” She teetered on her toes and kissed his cheek. “Thank you.”

“My pleasure, wife.”

**Author's Note:**

> Love you all. Stay safe. ❤️


End file.
